by Olive Balla
Based on what Dix had said about someone at the hospital calling the police, Jillie didn’t dare go there. Besides, Beth’s body might already be at the mortuary waiting to be burned up. In that case, her trip to Albuquerque would be wasted.
Like Dix had suggested, although Margo was perfectly capable of doing something awful with Beth’s ashes, it’d be more like her to put the urn on the mantel or in the middle of the kitchen table where she could gloat over it with her morning coffee. As Jillie thought it over, she felt certain that at some point, Beth’s ashes were going to show up at the Elliott house.
As suddenly as it had blown up, the storm fizzled. Clouds scooted away, stars twinkled, and the air grew colder. Jillie picked up her pace.
Memories of the Elliott house made her queasy. But after weeks of cleaning it, she knew its every nook and cranny. If Beth was there, she’d find her. If she wasn’t there yet, Jillie would wait until they brought her.
Her memory flashed on the little wooden shed that stood several feet from the Elliott house. Margo had said the place hadn’t been used for years. And there might be old dried-out bags of mulch or something that would make a nice bed. Unless it got too cold, she’d sleep just fine in her down-filled coat with Mickey for company. She could forage for food from the Elliott’s pantry and water from their stash in the garage. Best of all, since the shed faced the house, Jillie could watch the Elliotts’ comings and goings.
Jillie pulled her hoodie up, adjusted the straps on her backpack, squared her shoulders, and headed toward the Los Lunas train station.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lil was finishing up the dinner dishes when Dix stormed into the kitchen.
“She’s gone.”
“What?” Lil said.
“Jillie’s gone, she’s run away.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure.”
“That’s the best news I’ve had since the pigs ate Jeremy Dane.”
“Good God, what an abominable thing to say. That’s your trouble, Lil, you have no soul. How could we have come from the same mother?”
Lil snorted. “A question I often ask myself.”
Dix held up a piece of paper torn from a sketch book. “The note says she didn’t want to cause us trouble, but she has to find Beth’s ashes.”
“Probably realized the jig was up and snuck out.”
“But where will she go? How’ll she get by? What if that horrible family finds her?”
Lil threw the dishcloth into the soapy water and spun on her sister. “Not our problem. We don’t owe that kid anything.”
“Jillie. Her name’s Jillie.”
Lil held up her hand like she was trying to stop a charging rhino. “Yeah, yeah. Call Davie and let the police take it from here.”
Dix shook her head. “I love our nephew, but it’ll take time for him to find out things we already know. While he’s filling out paperwork, that hideous Margo woman could be hurting Jillie. No, we have to find her, that’s all there is to it.” She pulled a pencil and tablet of paper from a junk drawer in the kitchen and sat at the table. “What did Jillie want more than anything in the world?”
“She said she wanted to get her sister’s ashes and scatter them around the tree with those of her parents’.”
“And where would she get the ashes?”
“If the Elliotts don’t have them yet, they’d still be at the mortuary.”
Dix snapped her fingers. “Wait, Jillie said Beth had to be autopsied first.”
“So?” Lil shook her head.
“I heard of a case where an autopsied body stayed in the mortuary for over a year waiting for someone to claim it.”
“I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark that you read that in one of your waste-of-money tabloids.”
Ignoring Lil’s comment, Dix snatched her phone from the table where she’d tossed it after breaking her sister’s. “I’ll call the hospital and see if Beth’s body has been taken for cremation yet.” She Googled the hospital, got its number then punched it in. While waiting for someone to pick up, she said, “I’ll bet you dollars to donuts she’s headed to the hospital.”
A look of disgust on her face, Lil returned to sponging off dishes.
“Hello,” Dix said into the phone. “I’m wondering if you can tell me the status of a patient by the name of Beth Elliott.” Pause. “Are you sure? Yes, please check again.” Pause. “No, that’s okay. Thank you for your help.” Dix hung up the phone and turned to her sister. “No one by that name has been in that hospital within the past six months. Maybe it’s a different hospital.”
But when two more calls came up empty, Dix closed her cell and stared into space.
“Ha!” Lil clapped her hands together. “I told you that kid was no good. I’ll bet everything she said was a lie.”
Dix frowned. “See what I mean? You’re so quick to jump to the worst possible conclusion.”
“What other conclusion could there be?” Lil shot a look of triumph at her twin. “What a story she dished up. She probably doesn’t even have a sister. And you fell hook, line, and sinker for every word, as per usual.”
“No, something about that child rang as desperation. If she were playing us, you’d expect to see hints of wily or sneaky, but not desperate. Did you see those fingernails? They must hurt something awful. Not the product of a safe, loving environment, that’s for sure.”
Lil shrugged. “Everybody’s got a sad story, life doesn’t discriminate.”
“And her feet…blisters on blisters. I had to put ointment and bandages on them.”
“Most street kids are tough.” Lil took a deep breath. “But so is your average badger, and it’s not real bright to get too close to one of those either.”
“She’s just a child, for pity’s sake. She has no business on the street.”
“Maybe she’s a pathological liar and believes her own fantasies, you ever think of that?”
Dix jabbed the air with her index finger. “If you won’t help me find her, I’ll do it myself.”
“And what if I’m right? Have you checked your jewelry?” Then as if she’d been thunderstruck, Lil’s head jerked up and she headed for the stairs. “If she’s made off with anything of mine, I’ll haul her to the tank myself.”
Dix shot back, “Jillie left something behind for every veggie she took, which she only took because she was hungry. You think she’d grab your trash at the first opportunity?”
Lil’s voice floated in the air behind her. “I’ll have you know, it’s not trash.”
The sound of doors opening and closing and of drawers being pulled open and slammed shut was followed by silence.
“Told you,” Dix hollered toward the stairs.
Footfalls announced Lil’s return to the kitchen. “Okay, so she didn’t have time to find my coin collection, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong about her.”
Dix shook her head, shot a look of pity toward Lil, then grew thoughtful. “If I were Jillie, where would I look for my sister’s ashes?”
“How much more time and energy are you going to waste on this?” Lil sat down across the table from her sister. “Think about it. Since she apparently doesn’t have a sister, she won’t be trying to find any non-existent ashes.”
Dix again retrieved her phone from the kitchen counter. “Wait. I’ll do an online search.” Mumbling to herself, she dragged her fingers over the tiny screen, then poked it a few times. “Last name Ross from Belen.” She smiled ruefully and looked at her sister. “Interesting.”
“Okay, so what’s interesting?”
“It’s an obituary for a man named Ross from Belen who was survived by his daughters Bethany and Jillian Ray Ross.”
Lil snorted. “So? Doesn’t mean any of the rest of her story’s true.”
“Just a minute.” Dix tapped her screen a few more times. “I’m going to call the hospitals back and ask if they have a patient named Bethany Ross.”
“You think she k
ept her maiden name?”
Dix tilted her head to one side and shrugged. “Worth a try.” Again, she punched in the hospital’s number. She spoke rapidly, her excitement rising with every response from the other end. Nearly effervescent with glee, she broke the connection. “The hospital not only verifies they have a patient by the name of Bethany Ross, but the operator told me what room she’s in.”
“Hmm, curious.”
“Is that all you have to say, Miss People-Are-No-Good?”
“Better make a note on your calendar, because this is a first. I’ve always been a better judge of character than you.”
“Admit it, Jillie told us the truth.”
Lil’s lips curled. “At least some of it.”
“Know what I think? I think that Elliott woman told Jillie her sister was dead to pry information out of her about the so-called treasure. And if the woman’s that unscrupulous, the child could be in real danger.” Dix headed for the hall closet, flung the door open, grabbed her coat and retrieved her purse from a hook. “We have to find her.”
“What we? Leave me out of this.” Lil pulled the stopper from the sink and allowed the dish water to gurgle down the drain.
“Oh, of course. What was I thinking?” Dix pulled on her coat. “You have to get back to more important things, like saving a few pennies on hot water while the nine-hundred-dollar dishwasher molders away from disuse.”
Lil stomped through the kitchen to the entryway and stood in front of her sister. “And where do you intend to go at this hour?”
“I’ll drive up and down the streets; she can’t have gotten far.”
“It’s dark outside. That kid’s pretty small, but she struck me as being fairly intelligent.” Lil squinted at her sister. “If she doesn’t want to be found, you’re not going to find her.”
Dix pulled a wool scarf from her coat pocket and tied it around her neck. “So, I’m just supposed to pretend she never showed up here hungry, filthy, and terrified? Supposed to enjoy a cup of hot chocolate before climbing into my warm bed while that child struggles to survive? Is that what I’m to do?”
Lil shook her head. “You’re going to do what you always do, you’re going to interfere in business that has nothing to do with you. And then when that brat breaks your heart, you’re going to slink back here, curl up in your room, and cry your eyes out for a month.” She rolled her eyes heavenward. “God save me.”
“She’s not a mass-murderer.”
“Right, she only has one murder under her belt at this point.”
“Not murder, she killed that man to save her sister who, by the way, is in a coma because of that beating. Even you should be able to understand that.”
“That’s her story.”
“The bottom line is I choose to see the good in people, where you consistently refuse to see anything but the bad.” Lil opened her mouth to respond, but Dix held up her hand in a shushing motion. “No, it’s more than that. You look for the bad, even if you have to dig for it.”
“Oh, please.” Lil rolled her eyes again. “Not another lecture.”
“Just because you refuse to see that about yourself doesn’t mean it’s not true. People make mistakes; we’re not given a road map at birth. But I believe most people are just trying to survive the best way they know how, just trying to get by.”
“And that makes you a sucker. People do whatever brings them the biggest rewards, pure and simple. Your Ph.D. in psychology isn’t worth the paper it’s written on if you think every monster the world has ever bred was just trying to get by. Your rose-colored view of life ignores the existence of things like greed and hunger for power. Or are those human characteristics not allowed in your fluffy universe?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not a fool. I know there are destructive and hateful people. I know evil exists. But it’s a matter of degree. Most people try to do the decent thing.”
Lil shook her head. “You just hang on to that thought, why don’t you.” She snorted. “I agree with one thing you’ve said, though, people do have to work at being evil, it doesn’t just suddenly happen. And they usually start strolling down that path when they’re kids.” She shoved her index finger to within an inch of Dix’s nose. “Mark my words, this’ll be just like when you walked in on Darren and his secretary.”
“Oh yes, how could I forget that you warned me not to marry him in the first place.” Dix faced her sister. “I take it you’re not going to help?”
“Help you open yourself up to whatever this situation is going to dump on your head? No thanks. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You never cease to amaze.” Dix moved toward the front door.
“Don’t come crying to me when this whole thing blows up in your face.”
“Trust me, if I need compassion, I won’t look to you.” Dix opened the front door. “Don’t wait up,” she yelled over her shoulder before slamming the door so hard a framed photo on the wall fell from its hook and onto the tile floor. Sounds of shattering frame and glass added finality to Dix’s words.
“I’m not cleaning that up,” Lil screamed at the top of her lungs. As she stood staring at the front door, a budding sense of dread pushed against her anger. “Gird up your loins and grab your butt, Lil,” she muttered, “Here we go again.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Frothy, wind-whipped waves tossed Beth’s dream-body toward the rocky shore while moaning winds roiled black clouds overhead. Exhausted, she flailed her arms against the seaweed that threatened to pull her deeper into the darkness.
Like a drowning sailor fighting to reach shore, Beth took what she thought would be her final breath just before the sun peeped through the clouds, and she found herself sunning on a beach.
Warm sand pressed against her back and along her legs. Taught muscles relaxed, and peaceful calm flowed through her body as the hypnotic sound of waves pulsed against the beach.
Again, the scene changed, and she found herself floating above a bed upon which lay a woman’s body. Gulliver-like, the form lay immobile, as if a phalanx of maniacal Lilliputians had tethered it with countless plastic tubes and wires. Green and yellow half-healed bruises on the puffy face hinted at recent trauma.
Fearfully, Beth looked closer at the prone figure. Shards of recognition tinged with sadness flashed through the dream-like haze.
Her body.
Instantly, Beth’s consciousness moved out of the room. Unfettered by temporal constraints, she floated upward through metal and concrete and into an operating room where a group of white-clad people stood in a circle around a table upon which a sheet-covered body lay.
Machines clicked, whirred, and beeped while blood flowed from a bag hanging on a metal pole and into the body’s exposed forearm. Conversation among the medical staff was light-hearted, focused on plans for the weekend.
Then, as if she could see in all four directions at once, Beth floated out onto the hospital rooftop. Seemingly oblivious to her presence, pigeons ascended and descended, warily eyeing a red Converse tennis shoe someone had thrown onto the roof.
Her consciousness suddenly flicked back into her room and, as if the body on the bed housed a powerful vacuum, she was pulled back into it.
The beeping of bedside machines grew louder as pain coursed through various parts of her body. Had she been in an automobile accident? How badly was she hurt?
Had Jillie been hurt, too? Jillie.
Beth tried to move her arms and legs. But like a paralyzed dreamer, her limbs refused to obey. At some point, she stopped fighting and floated in and out of consciousness.
Light through her closed eyelids dimmed and intensified with who-knew-how-many dawns and dusks. Then unseen wheels ground to a halt, leaving her wherever it was that Time stood still.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dix drove in widening circles until she’d searched the whole village of Los Lunas. Her eyes darted down alleyways, along the ditch beside the road and into dark spaces between houses. But othe
r than the occasional passing vehicle and homeless person, she didn’t get a glimpse of a child alone and on foot.
If she doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find her.
Rather than discourage her, Lil’s words spurred her on. She drove out of the village limits to wind down country lanes and over bumpy ditch banks. Her fingers grew numb from the cold, but she refused to turn on the car’s heater. How could she make herself comfortable while that child wandered around in the frigid weather? According to the temperature readout on her dash, the air outside was only forty-five degrees, low enough to cause life-threatening hypothermia to the weak or unprotected.
Dix pulled her car into an all-night truck stop on Highway Forty-seven, its overhead halogen lights alchemically turning the night’s darkness into midday. She paid the young man behind the counter for gasoline, a granola bar, and the largest coffee available. After taking a couple of tentative sips of the scalding swamp-mud-tasting brew, she hurried back to the car where her mind roiled as she filled the tank.
Lil would be worried sick, envisioning all kinds of horrifying things. Dix had never dealt with her sister’s guilt trips very well and yet here she was, dishing up enough fodder to last the next twenty years.
Although she’d been putting it off, it was time to call her sister, if only to let her know she was okay.
Fighting back the sense that she was capitulating to some unreasonable demand, Dix pulled the car away from the pump and parked at the asphalt’s edge. Mentally crafting her I’m-okay-but-don’t-try-to-stop-me speech, she pulled her cell phone lanyard from inside her blouse.
Her stomach sank at the sight of the empty, useless bag, and she flashed on the image of her phone sitting on the kitchen counter.
She scanned the area around the truck stop for a roadside emergency phone. But sometime during the last couple of decades or so things had changed, and public pay phones were a thing of the past.
Outdated, just like she was. Old school. She’d never even learned how to text…
Yawn.